Lucy grabbed his shirtsleeve, whispering on tiptoe. She heard this standard expression of a strong soul wrung with a critical coldness that astonished herself. They leave them out of novels—these incompatibilities. “Shopman. Rows of roasted duck, brilliantly varnished; luscious vegetables, which she had been warned against; baskets of melon seed and water-chestnuts; men working in teak and blackwood; fan makers and jade cutters; eggs preserved in what appeared to her as petrified muck; bird's nests and shark fins. All the best novels have been written by women, and yet see how men sneer at the lady novelist still! There’s only one way to get on for a woman, and that is to please men. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it.
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This video was uploaded to southwestbyways.info on 21-09-2024 09:50:00
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